In This Moment
by Sunshinecackle
Summary: Cuddling isn't a particularly goth thing to do, but it never really stopped them.


**Title:** In This Moment  
 **Author:** Daisy  
 **Fandom:** South Park  
 **Setting:** The Goth's Duplex  
 **Pairing:** Michael/Pete  
 **Characters:** Michael, Pete, Firkle, Henrietta Biggle  
 **Genre:** Romance/Friendship  
 **Rating:** K  
 **Chapters:** 1/1  
 **Word Count:** 661  
 **Type of Work:** One-Shot, Gift for FangQueen  
 **Status:** Complete  
 **Warnings:** Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Fluff, Cute Goths, Unbeta'd  
 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.  
 **Summary:** Cuddling isn't a particularly goth thing to do, but it never really stopped them.

 **AN:** So, this is a wedding gift for my dear friend FangQueen. ; u; I hope you like it, bro! It's the OTP, being all precious and cute and I really am actually very happy with this one. Perhaps I'll write some more, when I'm feeling less out of it. xD

Prompt: Imagine Person A of your OTP loves having their hair played with, and Person B is an avid reader. Person A often goes up to person B while they're reading and cuddles them, and person B idly messes with their hair while they read, only pausing to turn a page of their book.

 **In This Moment** ****

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Michael lay spread out over the couch, as he was prone to do, his body easily taking over like a vining plant. The light from the single lamp in the room, peering over his shoulder at the book he was only half-reading, lit up his face only half as well as the cigarette he was lazily puffing on. A Saturday night inside wasn't exactly his usual scene, but a recent turn of events (a new job he was starting Monday) prompted him to skip getting fucked up with his friends. Having expected Pete to be out with Firkle and Henrietta, he figured he'd be spending tonight all on his lonesome, and it had his attention split.

A happy surprise came when the (much) shorter man crawled onto the couch by his sock-clad feet, managing to nestle between Michael's body and the back of their temporary bed. Tucked up under the other's arm, he closed his eyes as he reached forward to help hold the book open. Long, slim fingers found their way into his red and black hair, and they both heaved a soft sigh of contentment. It was in moments like these that they really felt alive; there was no need to speak, just a satisfying silence and the closeness of their bodies.

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" Pete murmured after what felt like an eternity of having his scalp pet by knowing fingers.

"If that means you have to move, then no." Michael responded, tilting his head to press his cheek into the other's hair. For another solid hour, they stayed like that, Pete practically purring the whole time as they continued to read through Frankenstein. Every time the page needed turned, the smaller would give a soft whine, not enjoying the second of lost contact between them. And, of course, Michael's hand would return to him, petting him calm and making sure to keep them both comfortable.

It wasn't until the front door closed and a lock clicked behind them that Michael's eyes shot wide open again, and he looked around. The clock read 2:30, and from the general darkness in the house, he assumed it was in the morning. Pete was still all but out, and as he turned to the voices at the door, the smaller whimpered a little.

"So, that bitch threw up _in_ my shoes, and then I-" Pausing in the doorway to the duplex the four goths shared, Henrietta suddenly cut off her story and ushered Firkle up the stairs. Closing the door quietly, she locked it and offered the barest hint of a smile to the lovebirds before disappearing up after the youngest goth.

Settling back onto the couch, red in the face and maybe a little more awkward than he'd like to admit, Michael glanced down a little at the dual toned hair against his cheek. As far as he knew, Pete was still asleep, he had hardly moved at all. The arm around him had fallen asleep hours ago, and as he smoothed it down over Pete's side, pins and needles shot through to his arm to his shoulder.

"Wake up, nihilist." He murmured into his hair, kissing his head before shifting to place his book on the coffee table, only getting a little, grumpy growl out of the goth glued to his side. "Come on, we need to go-"

"I don't want to." There was something about the way he said it that almost made Michael think he was cute. No, he had to keep up _some_ pretense of being goth. "You're comfortable, I'm comfortable, let's just sleep on the couch."

It took a few moments for him to finally sigh and nod, grabbing the throw blanket off the back of the couch and covering as much of them as he could with one arm.

"Night." He pressed the word into the other's hair, receiving little more than a soft snore in return.

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 **AN:** I really hope you like this! ; u; Until next time!


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